


Fury

by BelovedMaeve



Category: The Fosters
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-05
Updated: 2013-08-05
Packaged: 2017-12-22 11:24:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/912626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BelovedMaeve/pseuds/BelovedMaeve
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lena thoughts and emotions during the episode "Vigil".</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fury

**Author's Note:**

> I thought Sherri did an amazing job in Vigil. Clearly, she was reining her in emotions, and at the same time, trying desperately to stay strong for her children and partner. The anger that just simmered on the surface was so palatable, that I had to write about it. Short one-shot.

Lena was furious. As a parent and as a teacher she had learned to temper her anger. She learned to bite her tongue, take deep breaths, think before speaking. But this was so much harder. She was angry but also unbelievably hurt. Her children. All of them. If any one of them had come to she or Stef, this wouldn’t have happened.

She couldn’t remember everything she said. She didn’t know what she said to Brandon. Something sharp and scolding. She knew this because she saw the expression on his face when he tried to look at her. Shame. Guilt.

She could hardly bear to look at the twins. She was afraid the utter fury in her eyes would frighten them. They wouldn’t see hate. Never hate. She loved her children as she loved Stef, with her whole being. But she knew they would see the accusation in her gaze, because she did blame them. The lies, the deceit, the hiding. All of that resulted in this horrible, horrible day.

She knew Mariana and Jesús had been watching her, desperately hoping for her reassurance. Her hugs for them had been perfunctory. She didn’t have to look at Mariana to see the misery on her countenance, she could feel it. She just didn’t let it touch her. Not then.

She let her anger smolder because a part of her knew that if she let it go, the grief would consume her. She could live in a world without Stef -but she didn’t want to. She _didn’t_ want to.

When she made the calls to family members, she was numb. The numbness was worse than the anger because it allowed her mind to think and calculate. To prepare. Contingencies. She hated having that coldness in her brain. She wanted to rip it out of her head.

When Stef was awake, after her ridiculously cliché proposal, after talking to Mariana, and sending the children home, Lena had wept. She hadn’t meant to. She had every intention of staying strong, then going home to cry into her pillow, where she wouldn’t be seen or heard and the evidence would be gone by morning.

Instead, Stef had let her finger trace over her cheekbone, a place where she kissed her nearly every night (but not that night, not that terrible night), and Lena had broken down. The thought of never feeling that touch on her face, her lips…that they had come so close to death and their last words to one another had not been “I love you…” Guilt, shame, and anger crowded Lena’s chest until it broke with a low moan that was her partner’s name, then broke into jagged, hoarse sobs.

Stef had stroked her head with her hand. “Lena, ” she crooned like a lullaby, like an answered prayer.

Lena took Stef’s hand and kissed it, held it to her cheek. She wanted to crawl into bed with her fiancée but unlike the movies or romantic literature, she knew she was far more likely to bump up against the catheter or knock out her IV line then to gain or give a loving embrace.

Instead, Lena clung tightly to Stef’s hand. When she had ceased weeping, she looked at her partner. Lover. Her soon-to-be-wife. Stef’s smile was weary, but sweet.

“This day pretty much sucked,” Stef said, her breathing still laborious, but trying for a joking tone.

“Yeah. Let’s not do that again,” said Lena, a hitch in her voice.

While the night grew darker, she confessed guiltily, to her partner about her anger. Stef, true to form, laughed painfully. “Love, you are so hard on yourself. They were being idiots. They’re our idiots…but still. Take it easy. You are an amazing mom.”

Lena couldn’t help but smile faintly. Her fury had ebbed, the feel of her partner’s hand and the lilt in her voice, a balm on her weary soul. She held Stef’s hand as the other woman began to slumber, and began their parting with a gentle kiss. “Love you,” she whispered.

“Love you too,” the reply was faint, but Lena felt the last weight in her heart, gently release it’s hold.


End file.
